


Birthday

by SQ (proteinscollide)



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-30
Updated: 2008-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proteinscollide/pseuds/SQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>They say it's your birthday / We're gonna have a good time</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary from Birthday by The Beatles.

The security guy appeared by stealth next to Brendon, disturbing him mid-hand with a quiet, “Sonny, I need to check your ID.”

Brendon nudged Pete in the side – he’d gotten Brendon onto the floor in the first place, surely he could deal with this – but Pete just waved him off, intent of his own hand and the large sum he was betting. Brendon rolled his eyes and put on his biggest grin, his most charming smile, and said, “Hey it’s my birthday in two months, and I’m with Pete, so.”

The guard just shook his head and said gravely, “Sorry, but rules are rules. I have to ask you to leave this area. Sir.”

Pete was hissing now, glaring at the dealer as the man scooped Pete’s pile of chips towards him. He barely looked away as he passed Brendon a room card and said, “232. Don’t kick up a fuss, kid.”

Brendon opened his mouth to complain anyway, but Pete leant in closer and murmured, “I’ll make it worth your while, okay? Take a shower, get real clean, and wait for me.” He flashed Brendon a quick grin, one eyebrow raised, before turning back to the table, nodding at the dealer as he checked out the cards flicked at him.

Brendon grumbled but he followed the security guy back through the hotel lobby. “I’m going, gone, geez,” he said, holding his arms up in mock protest as the guy ushered him into the elevator cage and even keyed in the floor for him.

Brendon took a long shower, scrubbing all over and using up most of the little bottle of soap, stretching himself out with one finger under the hot spray, wondering what Pete wanted, what he had planned. He didn’t bother dressing again, diving onto bed barely toweled dry, hair still damp, the odd drop trickling down his back leaving a cold trail. He huddled under the covers and channel surfed, warm and sleepy and stomach roiling with anticipation.

Brendon woke with a start, blinking into complete darkness. He felt his arms stretched above his head, hands bound to the bed; he felt the cold of the room on his skin as the blanket was stripped from him.

“Pete?” he asked softly, then felt someone breathing wetly by his ear.

“I’m here,” Pete reassured him. “Did you think I’d forgotten?” He pulled lightly on the knots around Brendon’s wrists, and Brendon felt the strain in his arms as he pushed his body upwards, seeking the warmth of Pete’s.

“Uh-uh, we’re not ready.” Brendon could hear Pete close by, though with the blindfold on he couldn’t tell where Pete’s voice was coming from, the left or the right, just a sense of him in the room.

“We?” Brendon questioned, but Pete didn’t answer. There was a squeak as the door opened, the sound of murmurs and a hint of light across the shade of the blindfold, then a click as the door shut firmly.

Brendon heard shuffling closer to the bed, and then a hand caressing along the length of his thigh, a familiar hand rough with calluses. He shivered, and heard Pete laugh softly, happily. Brendon tilted his hips up, and Pete brushed his hand upwards, cupping Brendon’s cock briefly before sliding across the skin of his stomach. Brendon felt him ease closer, breath ghosting over the same areas, light kisses along the crease of his thigh. He whined when Pete skimmed over his cock, palming his thighs instead and saying, “Not yet.”

The whine turned into a moan when Pete opened Brendon up a little and drew his tongue flat across the hole, wetting the area. Brendon pulled against the restraints, to get closer to Pete, to Pete’s tongue teasing the rim, over and over.

“Pete,” Brendon gasped, “Pete, please. Please.” He bucked up against Pete’s arm, held across his stomach, as Pete entered him, licking his way in, darting back and forth then pushing in dirty and deep. Brendon felt the flush from his cheeks to the tips of his toes, the pulsing warmth as he squirmed underneath Pete’s insistent attention, the muscles of his stomach tightening with that feeling like a wave about the break. Then someone else, a warm wet mouth, slid down over the head of his hard cock and Brendon jerked at the surprise, just managing to ask hoarsely, “Who - ?”

Another body pressed close by his side, a hand – softer, thinner – trailed from Brendon’s hip over his chest, cupping one side of his chin. “Just me,” Ryan said, and drew Brendon in for a kiss, open mouthed and greedy. He tasted of musk, sweat, anticipation. Brendon sighed appreciatively and kissed back, long lazy kisses as Ryan gripped the base of his cock with one hand and stroked with the same rhythm.

Pete shifted forward and took Brendon into his mouth, sucking him around Ryan’s fingers, licking along the shaft until Brendon was dizzy with need, moaning against Ryan’s mouth, nudging himself deeper into Pete, until he came.

Brendon relaxed only to acutely feel the burn in his shoulders. He started to shrug them up and around, to ease the tension, and Ryan took over, rubbing from neck to shoulder with both hands, and Brendon groaned, pleased. Pete moved up the bed on his knees, his voice low and teasing as he asked, “So what now?”

“I - ” Brendon started to say, but Pete just shushed him with two lingers to his lips. In the silence Brendon poked his tongue out between his lips, but then Ryan said "I want to watch you fuck him."

Brendon nodded in agreement immediately. Pete sighed as if much put upon, then said with a smile, "Well, if you insist." He ran a hand, fingers splayed, along Brendon's side, chasing it with a line of kisses, eliciting a satisfied hum from the back of Brendon's throat. There was a crinkle of foil being torn apart, a snort as Ryan said, "Stop moving your hips like that, I can't - "

Then Brendon felt something cold and wet against him, fingers and lube, but Pete didn't bother for long, tucking his hands under Brendon's knees and muttering impatiently, "Up, up." Brendon let Pete guide one leg around Pete's waist, and the other over Pete's shoulder. He breathed in deeply as Pete slid inside him with a grunt, and focussed on the changes in Pete’s breathing as he started to pick up pace, the stop start pattern as he moved in and out of Brendon. But he could hear Ryan too, softer sounds to the left of him, gasps and the slippery noises.

"Take the blindfold off, I want to see," Brendon demanded, only to have Pete ignore him as always. But Ryan pushed the material up roughly with one hand. Brendon blinked against the dim light of the lamp in the corner, adjusting to the sight of Pete between his legs, braced with one hand on the bed, thrusting into him. He turned his head to see Ryan there on his knees; mostly clothed, though his shirt had been unbuttoned and opened to show an expanse of pale skin and the hint of ribs, and his jeans shoved down hastily. He had his cock in hand, stroking himself, watching: not Pete and the line of his back arched over Brendon, his increasingly frantic thrusts against Brendon, but Brendon's face. Brendon held Ryan's gaze and bit his lower lip as Ryan palmed himself, thumb brushing over the head on each downstroke, eyelids half closed as he tilted his head backwards as his breathing grew more erratic.

Pete shifted and pushed in deeper, pressing his face against Brendon's chest and panting into the skin, and Brendon moaned and arched his back. He caught the hitch in Ryan's breath and turned his head towards the other boy just in time to see Ryan lean forward to pull the blindfold back in place. Ryan came in the next moment, striping Brendon across the shoulder, a little landing on his cheek and the corner of his mouth. Brendon licked the drop from his lips and heard a satsified sigh, an echo in another voice, and then Pete came inside him.

For a moment, Brendon was overwhelmed by his senses - the smell of sex and sweat, the burn inside him, the stretch in his thighs and along his arms, Pete's weight resting upon him, the warmth of Ryan's lips lightly brushing across his lips - and he drank it all in hungrily, making a memory of every feeling. Then Ryan was gone from his side, and all Brendon could hear were hot wet noises over him, Ryan and Pete kissing; and all he could imagine were how they would look above him, Pete shiny and grinning, Ryan half-clothed and utterly debauched, pressed against him. Then Brendon heard the squeak of the door again - opening, closing - the click of the latch suddenly very loud.

"Pete?" Brendon ventured into the silence, and then the mattress dipped again as Pete threw himself beside Brendon on the bed. He cleaned Brendon with a warm washcloth, with sure even sweeps along his skin. Pete finally removed the blindfold and untied the knots, sitting back against the headboard as he took Brendon's sore wrists in hand and rubbed them gently, one by one.

Finally, Brendon shifted until his head was in Pete's lap, and said, "What was - Ryan - how did you - ?"

Pete just grinned wolfishly at Brendon and said, "Call it an early birthday present from the both of us."

END


End file.
